Blind Date
by kbeto
Summary: Derek wants to commit to a crazy cat lady life because he has no luck in love. Erica, however, has different plans and will do everything to modify her friend's destiny. Sterek fluff, AU, the usual stuff, etc.


_Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and the plot comes from stilinskisparkles' (on tumblr) tags on a post. These are feelings made of feelings from another Sterek fellow. Don't sue me!_

_A/N: Erica and Derek are BFFs and I couldn't be happier. If you look carefully, I have a fondness for making her a Sterek shipper in pretty much every story. (I'm shameless, I know) _

Blind Date

"I need somebody to remind me again why am I letting myself go through all this," Derek sighs, closing the door to his loft behind him.

"Because I'm not letting you commit to the life of a crazy cat lady, Derek!" Erica grins, her eyes rising from her phone screen to give Derek a good look. Just a spin of an index finger, and her best friend reluctantly rotates 360° to have his appearance judged for the seventh time – all previous attempts had been shot down as a 'fashion disaster'. "I have to say that I really like this one! Finally something that won't scare your mysterious guy away!"

"Good. I wasn't planning on changing, that's the whole point of kicking you out," Derek rolls his eyes with the habitual drama. "And he isn't my _anything. _He can be a murderer, for all we know._"_

His history with dates isn't what one can call brilliant or even average, and some really bad memories flood back to Derek –like the guy who wanted a threesome with his 90 years-old dominatrix grandma, or the girl that collected foreskin from every guy she ever slept with that he had to arrest– making him flinch. Nobody can really blame him for giving up on the whole dating thing, when everything that comes his way seems to stirs clear from all that makes sense in the universe.

"Yet, Derek. Yet." Erica loops her arm around Derek's, as they pace towards her car, resting her head on his shoulder. "I'm sure he's not a murderer and I doubt Isaac would set you up with a criminal. Just remember you can thank me later, 'kay?"

Not that Derek wants to sound like an ungrateful bastard, and he loves Erica as much as his own sister, but sometimes she can be quite a _handful_. In fact, she reminds him so much of Laura, that he wonders if that's the very reason why they are friends; he misses his sister like crazy.

"Let's hope you're right."

~#~

The bar of choice isn't too crowded when they arrive. Derek glances around and quickly locates who should be his date: a good-looking brunet with short hair, dressed in a blue shirt, aimlessly looking searching through the crowd, tilting his back to the beat and sipping cola from a cup ornamented with a pink, tiny umbrella. He doesn't know why the guy specifically has such an odd combination for drink, but considering Derek's dating reality, that's the most normal thing he could wish for. Besides, he _is_ dressed like he said he would.

"Go get 'im, Tiger! Good luck!" Erica shoos her friend, slapping his ass and earning herself a deadly glare.

The distance between his previous location and where the gorgeous guy is tapping his long fingers on the table isn't that great, Derek knows it. Still, each pace he takes forward seems to send him backwards two more, his heart actually excited about the prospect of maybe having a nice night with a random stranger that doesn't come with a questionable or unhealthy kink.

"Excuse me, are you Stiles?"

A knock on the table is all that takes for a glass to spill water on Derek's pants, the guy torn between swearing –while he holds his knee– and haphazardly trying to dry Derek's crotch with some napkins.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry! I was distracted and you appeared out of nowhere!" Apologetic eyes stare at Derek. "I take that you're Derek? I am Stiles, and this is a very, very bad first impression," Stiles wipes his free hand on his jeans and extend it between them.

"It can happen to anyone, don't worry," Derek forces a smile, mainly because he's mildly mad about being hosed upon arrival, but decides to accept Stiles' hand. He's not telling anyone about how warm and inviting the hand feel in his, even if Erica pounces on him wanting details.

~#~

Their night doesn't have any other highlight after the initial accident, except for a frustrated – and Derek is glad for that– attempt of setting their table on fire by Stiles. It starts with an innocent _"I can do some magic tricks, you wanna see it?"_ and ends with a lighter burning napkins and nearly configuring arson, though they both laugh a bit afterwards.

Derek can't seem to find it in himself to enjoy the entire thing, though, when he keeps receiving texts from Erica every 30 seconds. The first message arrives not long after they take their seats, and that's something Derek knows as her normal behavior.

_I can see him across the bar_

The second text isn't something too odd, either. In all honesty, it's something anyone with eyes can see, including Derek himself.

_He looks hot_

"Is something wrong?" Stiles asks, wrapping his lips around the straw and draining his drink. He's watching Derek watch his phone with a frown and concludes it's bad news on the text he's reading.

"This? Oh, it's nothing! Don't worry!" A smile plays on Derek's lips, this time a genuine one, because can this guy get any sweeter? He probably means his words; they sound genuinely laced with concerned.

"If you say so... Uh, care if I leave you for a few minutes? Too much water makes your bladder angry."

"I need to go, too," Derek points to all the empty cups on the table. He's not aware how lewd it sounds, till he sees Stiles blush and avert his gaze to his shoes, and his own eyes bulge so far it's a miracle they don't fall from their sockets. "I didn't mean– It's nothing what it sounded like."

"Let's just go, okay?" Stiles ears are bright red, and maybe so are Derek's, but they do leave to the urinals together.

~#~

The moment they're back, Derek receives another text. He's many things when he reads the message, and happy isn't one of them.

_Have you boned him yet?_

"Dude, I don't think you're feeling well."

"I'm fine, Stiles. Really, it's nothing."

_Stop glaring you're scaring him_

Derek makes a mental note to _skin_ his alleged best friend later. How dare she say that when she's the one sending the ludicrous messages that are making him glare? He's not glaring at Stiles. They're not even making eye contact since the 'invitation' moments ago, how can he?

"Your angry face is kinda funny," Stiles suddenly blurts, trying to cover a giggle with his hand. Derek looks at him in disbelief, though something about the way Stiles giggles like a silly schoolkid makes his frown disappear and it's soon replaced with a smile, making him laugh along with the goofy guy.

"You tell me that only now? I need to keep an angry face when I'm working!"

"A work that goes better if you look angry and intimidating... are you a teacher?" Stiles smirks. His mind may or may not wander around for a second, imagining Derek in glasses and teaching him some things that _aren't_ in the books.

"Funny, aren't we?" Derek scoffs, and gives one of his well-known eye rolls. "I'm a cop, actually."

In a fraction of a second Stiles is leaning over the table, and staring at Derek like he just turned gold. He has this fascination in his eyes that Derek recognizes as the same one in his nephew's, whenever he wants Uncle Derek to tell a story about his work. Certainly enough, the subject of their conversation switches to how is it to be a cop in a big city, and Stiles is literally breathing every word spilled from Derek's lips, for their faces are rather close.

"I want to be a cop in the future," Stiles finally relax back in his chair, beaming at Derek, who doesn't seem to share Stiles' enthusiasm, as his smile falters fast. "You don't think I would give a good cop?"

"Oh fuck! How old are you?"

"I'm, uh, 19? Why?"

Derek's pushing himself up, shaking his head, while he repeatedly chants 'no' over and over. "Look, Stiles, you're a great guy and everything, but I'm old, this is a disaster and I need to leave, okay? Have a good life!"

"But–" Any words he has to say fall in deaf ears because Derek's already fleeing in his defensive mode, completely blocking out everything and everyone, even the people he's almost running over on his way out.

~#~

"Whoa! Wait a minute will you?" Stiles grabs Derek by his arm and spins him around. He's glad he could cut through the crowd with ease, and that his legs can act as quick as his brain and carry him outside the bar before Derek can catch a cab and disappear from his life forever. "I'm into antiques, if that's what worries you."

"You came here to rub it in my face or... ?"

"No!" Stiles frowns and drops his arms in a very exasperated fashion, then bringing his hands to run through his hair. "Okay, maybe I'm on the young side, but I think you're pretty neat, as well."

"Stiles, I–"

"I don't care what you're going to say, I think we should try this again," he points from him to Derek. "Without your friend spying on us, that is."

Derek's lips turn upwards of their own volition, and soon a laugh bubbles all the way to his throat. Stiles is taken aback for a moment by the sudden guffaw, but joins Derek, nonetheless. "Damn, you actually will make a good cop if you noticed that," he finally huffs.

"Hell, yeah!" Stiles does a little victory dance, pumping his fist in the air. "And you can totally teach me how to frisk someone!"

The smile on Derek's face falters and he blinks twice. Stiles realizes what the sentence he added without an afterthought sounded like, and instantly starts blushing again, his ears once more reddening along with his face. He's not alone in this, for Derek too is a ball of embarrassment, trying to avert eye contact. Just the two of them under a street lamp, blushing like schoolkids around their crushes.

"So, what do we do now?" Stiles breaks the silence, still very flustered.

"You kiss him! For fuck's sake, do you two want me to sing that song from The Little Mermaid, too? Because I _can_ and I _will,_ if that's what takes to get some tongue shoved down throats around here!" Erica leans on the door to the bar with her arms folded over her chest.

"Is she– is she always like that?" Stiles points a thumb over his own shoulder at the blonde.

"You wouldn't want to see her when she's having a bad day. She's not the kind of person you want to cross."

"Then we should just– you know, get on her better side and cling to our lives and physical integrity?"

"I'm not planning on getting murdered in my sleep, if that's what you're asking."

A few steps and they're face to face, staring at each other eyes, searching for something that neither know what is. Derek opens his mouth to say something, and maybe it's a protest about how the situation is wrong, but Stiles doesn't let him. He reaches for the bearded face and pulls Derek towards him, making their lips touch.

It's awkward at first, like they don't know where exactly to go. It's something too chaste to be a kiss between adults and somewhere in the distance Erica's boot tapping impatiently against the ground can be heard, so Stiles nips on Derek's lower lip and uses the surprise element to go for a real kiss with all the tongue he can provide.

"That's what I'm talking about!" Erica wolf whistles, hopping on the same spot.

When the make out session is finally over, both look slightly dazed. "See? This a good thing!" Stiles licks his lips, fishing for a paper in his pocket where he scribbles his number, shoving it in the front pocket of Derek's pants. "And now you can call me whenever you want."

"Do you want me to take you home?" Derek asks, seeing Stiles walk away.

Stiles shakes his head. "Too much temptation, and you don't seem to be the kind of dude that, uh, _frisks_ on the first date."

Derek smiles one more time, seeing Stiles jump inside a Jeep and drive away. He can kiss his crazy cat lady life goodbye for all he cares.

~Fin~


End file.
